


Like Dominos

by zenonaa



Category: Dangan Ronpa
Genre: Bad Ending, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:51:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenonaa/pseuds/zenonaa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One by one, they all fall into despair. Bad Ending Fic.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Dominos

**Author's Note:**

> it's been done before and been done better but w/e

“If I am executed now, this school's mystery will remain unsolved. I cannot let that happen! That’s just the mastermind’s trap!”

From Kyouko’s words formed a paved path within Makoto’s mind. A paved path with slabs made of broken thoughts and questions Makoto couldn’t find the answers to in Kyouko’s eyes. Perhaps the key to solving Mukuro Ikusaba’s fate lay at the end of this paved path or peered up at them from the path’s cracks. Did Kyouko really intend to prevent the mastermind from winning or was this all a ploy to save herself? Should he have played along and shouldered the blame instead? Should he have sacrificed himself... for her? And sentenced everyone else to death? Something about this trial felt wrong but Kyouko’s claim of lacking access to her room was also wrong.

His trust wavered.

“What Kirigiri-san just said,” Makoto extended a finger toward Kyouko, “is clearly a lie.”

Byakuya glanced up. “A... lie?”

Makoto’s hot stare clashed with Kyouko’s cool gaze, igniting a spark to something Makoto wouldn’t know until long after he watched Kyouko’s crushed body fall into darkness with a shower of desk splinters.

“Isn’t that right, Kirigiri-san?” Makoto asked.

She never did say.

And so the first domino fell.

***

No new areas were unlocked. They sat in the cafeteria the following morning and pretended to eat breakfast. Kyouko had never been one to say much yet the silence that hung above them was stark. It lay thick, bringing tears to Aoi’s eyes that she mopped up with her sleeve. It lay heavy, Yasuhiro slouched forward with sagging limbs as he twirled a fork between his fingers. Unavoidable, pulling Touko’s focus toward the floor. Tarnishing Byakuya’s gleam. Silence clenched Makoto’s throat when he raised his spoon to his mouth and his cutlery soon clinked against his china bowl.

When they eventually rose, they left their untouched breakfasts behind. The rest of the day’s meals returned to the kitchen almost intact. Despite having gone through this four times already, Makoto couldn’t help feeling this time was different. Maybe even wrong. He just couldn’t pinpoint how. So this unease pecked at the back of Makoto’s mind like how he pecked at his food even after a week had passed.

A week. Counting the days gave Makoto something to do. Something to do when he wasn’t playing pool with Yasuhiro or Othello with Aoi or shogi with Byakuya. Or, such as at that moment, when he wasn’t listening to Touko read excerpts from her I-Novel while they ate.

“It won’t be published for... a while,” Touko explained as she laid sheets of lined paper onto the table, all secured together by a brass fastener. Cramped handwriting filled every page, weaving a narrative that never failed to capture their attention. Even Byakuya’s. “Most of what I’ve written so far is about my childhood, but I’m nearly at the bit when I m-met Byakuya-sama for the first time!”

Makoto chuckled. Aoi and Yasuhiro grinned. Byakuya continued to stare at Touko with his palm cupping his chin. His expression was not one Makoto often saw outside the occasions Byakuya located a case file or book that managed to pique his interest. Definitely not one he wore when looking at someone.

But, Makoto supposed, Touko’s life was a compelling story. And she told it in a way that allowed them to smell the blood on her thigh that soon swirled around her feet. To feel the soap that burned her eyes and nose and the rest of her body as she scrubbed herself raw, her retching smothered by the shower’s constant downpour. To hear water splatter against the tiles below her feet, which she knew were tinged red and brown even with her eyes shut. But it was okay. It was okay because at least she could wash the blood away even if the memories stained her permanently.

She provided insight to a world she had been forced to carry the burden of alone. A sad world. A horrifying world. Gasps often punctuated the ends of Touko’s sentences when she described her experiences at home and school. Of how, regardless of abusive parents and two-faced students and Syo, Touko contained the strength to live through it all and make a name for herself. And then recount such a life to her friends.

Friends. The word warmed Makoto’s cheeks as he regarded the other four students in turn. Despite all this, they were friends.

“What will you write about once you catch up to the present?” Byakuya asked, pausing to sip coffee. “You could venture outside the romance genre and attempt a mystery novel of some kind. If I’m in a good enough mood by then, I can possibly lend you a hand.”

Pink exploded across Touko’s cheeks upon hearing such an offer.

Byakuya pressed his lips together, starting his breakfast and refusing to meet anyone’s eye while he ate.

“She’s going to write about the future, of course,” said Yasuhiro, rubbing his finger against the underside of his nose. “That’s what follows the present, ‘right? And I’m just the guy who can help you with that, Fukawa-chi.” He pointed at her. “I’ll read you your future for sixty percent of your royalties!”

Aoi balked at him. “Hey, isn’t that like more than half?”

“There’s no ‘like’ about it,” said Makoto.

Touko fidgeted, glancing at Byakuya before gazing down at her hands. “I don’t need your help...! You would probably feed me false information anyway.... You’re nothing but a hack, after all.”

Yasuhiro laughed once. Touko resumed speaking.

“I already k-know what will be in my future and I have a lot to write about...!” She hugged herself. “My future... with Byakuya-sama and all our babies!”

Byakuya plonked his mug against the table before folding his arms over his chest. “... I thought you were writing something autobiographical, not fictional.”

Yasuhiro squeezed Byakuya’s shoulder and waved a hand. “Don’t count those chickens before they’ve hatched, Togami-chi. I just did a reading,” he thumped himself on the chest with the hand not clenching Byakuya’s shoulder, “and you’re going to have lot of love in your future! With at least two point four children!”

Touko clasped her hands together. “Ah! I... I k-knew it! We’re destined to be together...!”

“So he’s a hack until he says something you agree with?” Aoi sighed, shrugging her shoulders and aiming her palms toward the ceiling. “I’ll never understand you.”

Rolling his eyes, Byakuya picked up his mug. “The day I fall that low will be the day I’m no longer a Togami.”

***

“How about it? Doesn't anyone have an objection?” Byakuya asked, fist raised as he surveyed the school courtroom.

No one responded. He frowned at the floor, the fire in his eyes smouldering.

“... I see. It seems we have no choice but to accept it.”

Makoto woke up. Staring up at the ceiling, he added another day to the tally.

***

Two weeks after Yasuhiro’s reading, Touko announced she intended to focus on writing a detective novel for a while. Finding her in the library beside Byakuya became a rather common sight over the next month, both pouring over a mosaic of notes and case files that could provide inspiration. Often the pair had to be fetched for meals due to them losing track of time or wanting to work for longer.

If one didn’t make their presence known straight away, it was possible to listen in on what they discussed while they collaborated. And the other three found themselves on many occasions hesitating by the door or behind a bookshelf. They took turns retrieving Byakuya and Touko from the library, later sharing what they overheard. Such an invasion of privacy left a sour taste in Makoto’s mouth, but he couldn’t deny he wasn’t at least slightly curious like Aoi and Yasuhiro were.

At first the two simply exchanged ideas and subplots. Then subplots of other books. Then they talked about books in general. Then life in general. Then their lives specifically.

“And you beat them all?” she asked, staring wide-eyed. “All fourteen?”

Byakuya smirked, placing his mug of coffee onto the only clear space on the desk. The surface of his drink rippled and he stared down at it as he responded. “Yes. It was the first time the youngest ever won. They all assumed I would be one of the losers. But I proved them wrong by taking the crown and becoming the Togami family’s rightful heir. Against all odds, I came out victorious.” He sounded bitter. “Now they’re nothing but nobodies while I have made a name for myself.”

Touko loosened her grip on her pen before holding it snugly a second later.

“It’s... It’s sort of like... me.” She spoke so quietly that Makoto nearly missed what she said. “In... a way.”

A pause. Then Byakuya shifted slightly closer to her, light from the lamp dancing across his face. It almost made him look like a different person. Or maybe his new expression caused this.

“... To some extent, yes.” Byakuya gazed at her. “You... wouldn’t be wrong... saying that.”

They returned to writing.

From then on, Makoto noticed Byakuya’s attention wander toward Touko with increasing frequency.

***

Just before Kyouko reached the trash compactor, Alter Ego’s face appeared on the television screen above it. The conveyor belt pulled her along and she soon fell backward into the hole in the floor beneath the inactive block that would have otherwise crushed her.

Upon waking up, reality’s sharp sting popped the hope that had been swelling in Makoto’s chest.

He added another day to the tally.

***

“I can say with higher than twenty percent certainty that there will be no more murders,” Yasuhiro declared. Then, biting down on his tongue, he aimed the cue stick and thrust it forward. Balls clattered in a blur of colours across the pool table. Straightening up, Yasuhiro allowed the end of the cue stick to thud-thud against the floor as he waited for the balls to still.

Aoi peeked at him from over the magazine in her hands. The way she held it obscured most of her face. Makoto recalled seeing her read the exact same magazine with Sakura once. He remembered being surprised that they chose one about fashion.

“You said that last time and then Kirigiri-chan killed that Icky Lightsaber girl,” Aoi pointed out. Against her chest rested her thighs, and the pages of her reading material murmured as she lowered it so she had a better view of Yasuhiro.

“Her name was Mukuro Ikusaba,” Makoto said. His chest twinged at her name. For someone none of them had ever met, her death created a remarkable amount of damage.

Yasuhiro passed him the cue stick. Makoto strode to the other side of the pool table and readied himself, squinting one eye as he adjusted his angle.

“This time my divinations are telling me that we’re all going to live in peace from now on for sure,” Yasuhiro replied, positioning his elbow onto the edge of the pool table. “I mean none of us are going to kill anyone, ‘right? And Togami-chi and Fukawa-chi seem happy enough here too. We’re going to be okay.”

Aoi averted her gaze, magazine sagging. “None of us thought anyone would kill in the first place... and then none of us thought Kirigiri-chan would kill someone... and n-now... now it’s just the five of us!”

The magazine fluttered to the floor. Eyes watering, Aoi wrapped her arms around her legs and squeezed. She buried her face between her knees, next words muffled.

“It’s not fair! They should all be here. Sakura-chan... and Kirigiri-chan and... and Fujisaki and...! And...! All our friends! And we’re just sitting here doing nothing! We should be trying to get out! Even if we put our lives at risk, we should be trying to escape!”

Makoto, who had just found the perfect angle to strike the cue ball at, hesitated.

Yasuhiro spoke next.

“As long as we stay out of trouble, we’ll all manage,” he told her. “No point treading on a path full of thorns when where you’re standing is perfectly fine, ‘right? Instincts can lead you into danger when there’s no need to change things. Kirigiri-chi did that and look where it got her. Just... it’ll be okay, Asahina-chi. We’ll be okay.”

Hiccuping, Aoi wiped her eyes with her knuckles.

Makoto wished he could agree.

***

This time Makoto was on the conveyor belt.

The tally in his mind blurred when he attempted to recall the total. He guessed three months. That sounded about right.

***

It took three days of constant persuasion until Aoi finally led the rest of the students to the swimming pool. With one hand attached to Yasuhiro’s wrist and the other to Touko’s, she dragged them into the water. Makoto raised his arm to shield his face as the three plunged into the pool with a large splash, and Byakuya grimaced as he stepped back. Although Aoi visited the swimming pool daily, no one else ever felt inclined to join her unless she badgered them into accompanying her. But she had succeeded in getting them all to join her this time, even bringing a picnic so they could eat together on the floor nearby.

For once, Touko didn’t seem ashamed about having her scars on display. Maybe she forgot about them, though Makoto liked to think she trusted the others enough to not care anymore. She appeared almost happy when she splashed Aoi back. Both girls shrieked when Yasuhiro, who had been circling them underwater, jumped up and whipped his hair out of his face and got them even wetter. Aoi leaped onto his back and pinned his arms to his sides with her legs, shouting at Touko to get revenge.

“Fukawa-san has opened up a lot,” Makoto remarked, bending over and grabbing onto the metal ladder leading into the pool.

“She’s always been rather talkative,” Byakuya replied.

“Mostly around you, but now she’s talking more to everyone else as well.”

Cool water lapped at Makoto’s ankles. He stared up at Byakuya.

“I think sharing that I-Novel with us helped her feel better about herself,” said Makoto. “It’s shown her that she doesn’t need to be alone and that she has people who want to support her. She doesn’t need to bottle up her emotions anymore. Genocider Syo has been happier too. And she enjoys writing with you. Togami-kun, you’ve really made her happy.”

Byakuya scoffed, jutting out his chin. “Obviously. It is due to my input that her current project is at the quality it is now.” He looked away, folding his arms over his chest. “... Though I admit she is doing an excellent job. But that’s to be expected. She’s a Super High School Level Writer, after all.”

Yasuhiro shouted something. Makoto turned toward the pool. Byakuya furrowed his brow.

“And Fukawa didn’t live a carefree life of ignorance,” he added. “She’s gone through many hardships. It taught her things.”

Makoto peered up at him. Byakuya’s attention had once again fallen onto Touko, who was currently waddling away from Aoi. Aoi flung out her arms, giggling and demanding that Touko accept her hug. Yasuhiro sidestepped in front of Touko and Aoi tackled her. Touko flailed her arms and squealed, cheeks pink but not with anger.

Laughter rang out.

One could almost pretend things were normal again.

Choosing his next words carefully, Makoto said, “Togami-kun. You like Fukawa-san, don’t you?”

“... She’s more tolerable these days, I suppose. Especially now that her mouth has a filter so she doesn’t say so many disturbing things anymore.”

Makoto gulped and willed himself to talk. “I mean... in a... different way to how you... tolerate us.”

For one moment, Makoto swore he saw Byakuya Togami blush. Then he blinked and Byakuya had his back to him and was stomping toward the changing rooms.

“Togami-kun?” Makoto spun around on his heel and extended an arm toward him. The laughter in the pool died down. “Where are you going?”

Byakuya stopped by the door and planted his palm against it. “I told you all before.” His voice was low. “The day I allow myself to feel such a... thing... will be the day I renounce my bloodline. I don’t need you trying to plant ideas in my head.”

Makoto’s arm flopped to his side.

“Togami-kun...”

“Save it,” said Byakuya.

The door slammed shut behind him.

***

All fifteen students stood in front of the exit. In Makoto’s hand was a switch. He pressed the red button on it.

Light overwhelmed his senses as the door moaned open.

He fell out of bed.

Four months. Maybe.

***

The next domino fell. Quite literally, in fact.

No one expected anybody to die again. A naive thought for one to have in a school of mutual killing yet it was a rational assumption. They coexisted. Hung out together. Aoi styled Touko’s hair after some convincing by the former. Makoto accepted Aoi’s offer to coach him. They sang karaoke in the music room. And after a few days of avoiding everyone, Byakuya let Yasuhiro drag him onto the stage for a duet. Touko resumed writing with Byakuya. Things seemed fine again.

So when Makoto answered his door one morning to a hysterical Aoi, he didn’t know what to expect.

He didn’t expect Aoi to show him Touko’s body lying on her stomach at the bottom of the stairwell on the ground floor. The only person not present was Yasuhiro, who Aoi excused herself to fetch. That left Makoto with Byakuya. Byakuya, who was girdled by a mess of books as he knelt beside Touko. Head tilted forward so no one who was still alive could view his face.

“Fukawa-san...” Makoto choked. “Why-?”

“It couldn’t have been suicide,” Byakuya stated with no emotion. Touko’s hand rested in his palm. His fingers curled around hers. “She would have written me a note if she planned to kill herself. But there isn’t a note. Asahina checked her room. There wasn’t a note in the library.”

“She was carrying a lot of books,” said Makoto. “She must have lost her balance and tripped.”

Byakuya didn’t reply.

Aoi and Yasuhiro arrived.

“Fukawa-chi?” Yasuhiro stumbled back, complexion blue-green. “B-But my divinations said-! This isn’t right!” He clutched his head. “She’s... She’s not just napping, is she?”

“There is no pulse,” said Byakuya. “Touko Fukawa is dead. You don’t need to check. I already did.”

Monobear’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“A body has been discovered!” he announced. “Following a brief period of investigation, we will commence our school trial! My, my. What a turn of events! This is all beary... inconvenient!” Monobear whined. “I didn’t get to reveal the next motive because you bastards don’t have the courtesy to wait. No... one of you had to go and die first. It was my favourite motive as well.”

Aoi clenched her fists. “Don’t... Don’t talk about Fukawa-chan like that! I-It was an accident!” She collapsed to her knees and sobbed. “She wasn’t meant to die! Fukawa-chan is supposed to be alive!”

“Yeah,” said Yasuhiro, wiping sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. The blue had drained from his face and left it sallow. “Do we even need to have a trial? I mean... we already worked out what happened, ‘right...?”

Monobear popped up next to him. “Eh... It’s the standard procedure. If it makes you feel better, you can consider the next trial a filler episode. Not necessary and a complete waste of time. Hm, that doesn’t sound beary feel-bettery at all. Never mind. Upupupu.”

He pressed the Monobear File into Yasuhiro’s hand then vanished. Everyone remained where they were and didn’t speak for a while.

“It’s probably for the better,” Byakuya piped up. The other three turned toward him. He continued staring down. “It’s... one less opponent, isn’t it?”

Makoto’s stomach churned. “Togami-kun?”

“If I refrain from committing... the next murder... and we work out the culprit’s identity... that will leave two people alive... If I survive that, I only need to eliminate the last student... to win the game...”

Aoi’s balled her hands into fists. “Fukawa-chan is dead and all you can think about is-? I can’t believe you!” She staggered toward him with her hand raised. Yasuhiro cowered. That left Makoto to block her path. “Naegi, you better get out of my way!”

Makoto patted the air. “Asahina-san, please! Togami-kun doesn’t know what he’s saying.”

“If Fukawa is dead, she can’t bother me anymore,” said Byakuya. “Dead people can’t do anything. They’re just things. They’re just-!”

Aoi dodged past Makoto. Byakuya’s glasses smacked into the stairwell before tumbling down them and landing next to Touko. Byakuya kept his neck twisted to the side, his cheek reddening.

Tears streaming down her face, Aoi lowered her hand.

Byakuya’s pupils flickered. “... I needed that.”

The trial took a minute.

The next domino to fall even less.

***

Six students stood in front of the exit. To Makoto’s right stood Aoi and Yasuhiro. To his left stood Byakuya... and Touko... and Kyouko?

Kyouko smiled at him. “As long as I have people like you with me, I am looking forward to the challenge. I am sure we can do anything.”

She grabbed his hand.

Makoto sat up.

Five months?

***

It seemed like a good idea. None of them saw Byakuya for more than a week following Touko’s trial. When not in his room, he was sitting at the desk in the library. Any traces of the novel they had been working on no longer existed, much like how Touko’s body was no longer at the bottom of the stairwell. Instead of losing one friend, it felt like they had lost two. He only spoke when someone attempted a conversation with him and he responded in as few words as possible.

Yasuhiro suggested they ask Monobear for a portrait of Touko. With surprising willingness, Monobear obliged. Makoto presented it to a reluctant Byakuya who snapped that he didn’t care and was only humouring Makoto by accepting it.

The portrait stayed, presumably, in Byakuya’s room at first. It was next seen with him in the library by Aoi, who had gone to retrieve him for dinner. Dismissing it as his way of coping, they didn’t worry themselves about it until Makoto overheard him speaking to the portrait.

“He said what?” Yasuhiro asked.

Makoto, whose palms were cupping his knees, tightened his grip as he studied the recreation room’s floor. “He... told it to stop breathing so loudly. I think he's been having conversations with it too.” Makoto looked up. “It’s been about a month since... you know. I don’t think he’s taking it well. We should probably do something...”

Yasuhiro shifted his weight slightly, countenance apprehensive. “My divinations say we should leave Togami-chi be. The dude’s probably just confused and needs space. He did get kind of fond of Fukawa-chi, ‘right? I bet she’s the first person he’s ever not hated and he never got to do anything about it. I don’t blame him. I probably would have avoided confronting that sort of thing too... it’s less painful.”

“Just because it’s less painful, doesn’t mean it’s the better option,” said Makoto. He looked from Yasuhiro to Aoi. “Togami-kun needs us more than ever.”

“He needs something to focus on,” Aoi replied. “I know just what to do... and only I can do it.”

“You do? What is it?” asked Makoto, his question bouncing off Aoi’s back as she rushed out of the room.

A year later, she gave birth to Byakuya’s son. But the third domino had long since fallen by then.

***

“Kirigiri-san?”

Kyouko glanced up from braiding Touko’s hair. Their appearances were more youthful than the fading image of them stored in his mind. “Is something wrong, Naegi-kun?”

“I...” Makoto tried to remember. “Who... killed Mukuro Ikusaba..?”

That was her name... right?

Kyouko’s face blurred until it dissolved into the ceiling of his room.

The tally came to approximately two years.

***

“You could at least try to act like his father!”

“Why should I?”

“Gee, I don’t know, maybe because you are his dad? Me and Naegi were feeding him and do you know what your son called him? He said, ‘Papa.’ Papa! Don’t you care that he sees someone else as his dad? He looks like you. Just like you. You would love him if you just gave him a chance!”

“... I don’t want to get to know him.”

“And why not? Togami, she’s not coming back. I’m sorry. We all are. We all miss her too and that’s okay-”

“- shut up.”

“- but you can’t keep pretending that thing is her. You have a son! You have us!”

“I told you to stop talking.”

“And you need to get over yourself and take responsibility for once!”

“You demanded I give you a child, not the other way around. Your attempts at playing happy family are absolutely pathetic. You've gone from optimistic to just plain delusional. And how dare you make such baseless assumptions! You don’t know a damn thing about me!”

“You're in no position to call someone else delusional! You know what I do know for certain? I know that portrait would be better off in the incinerator!”

Byakuya stormed out. Aoi cried into her pillow. Their son grizzled in the cot Yasuhiro had built for him.

***

The courtroom was dirty and rusted.

“You must not lose hope!” Makoto shouted.

Fog surrounded Kyouko’s and Touko’s heads. Byakuya had his back to him. Aoi looked over her shoulder. Yasuhiro chewed on a fingernail. Makoto opened his eyes.

... Two and a half years?

***

“I can’t stand him! I'm trying to keep us all together and he won't stop shutting everyone out! He’s such a-! A-!”

Aoi doubled over and swore into her lap at the top of her voice. All Makoto could think to do was rub circles into her back with his thumb. Yasuhiro had taken her son to the library and no one had seen Byakuya all day. The last time Makoto saw him, he had been smiling and nodding at the portrait’s silence in the botanical garden.

He reached under her face and found her hand.

She snorted and raised her head, eyes red and puffy.

Makoto gazed at her. “Asahina-san... I don’t think there’s anything you can do about Togami-kun for now. You’ve got a beautiful son to care for, and me and Hagakure-kun will always be there for you. I promise.”

“Naegi...” She mopped at her eyes with her shirt, flashing him her stomach by doing so. “You’ve both been so... so supportive. Seriously. You all mean the world to me... even Togami. That’s what makes it so hard. I don’t want to lose any of you again. I want us all to live here happily forever and get along and not suffer. No more pain. No more hurting. Only... peace.”

“I want that too.” He just wasn’t sure this was how they would achieve their happy ending. Not as long as they were in this school. Not without Touko and Kyouko and everyone else.

But what if... staying here was the right answer after all?

“You’re very important to me too,” Makoto said. His hand, against the back of hers, gave a squeeze. “Hagakure-kun, Togami-kun... you... everyone...”

Aoi flipped her wrists over so that her palm was against Makoto’s. She grasped his other hand and slowly leaned toward him with her lips puckered.

Makoto shut his eyes at the same time as she did, closing the distance that separated them with a kiss.

Her fingers laced through his hair as they fell onto the bed with him on top, hands desperate and mouths more so.

Makoto’s son was born nine months later. It coincided with the fourth domino toppling over.

***

Byakuya braided Touko’s hair. Kyouko was seated opposite them, painting Touko’s fingernails.

Aoi sat to their left. “Hey, you guys want to join us?” She turned toward Makoto and held up a box. The contents mumbled when she shook it. “These donuts taste great and there’s enough for everyone!”

Yasuhiro stood up.

Makoto stopped counting.

***

At some point, Yasuhiro impregnated Aoi. At a later point, she gave birth to a third son. Aoi claimed this to be a good thing. It gave his brothers another person around their age to play with. They also had their daddies and their mother too. And the adults had someone else to focus on once the eldest sons became more independent.

“See? My reading was right in the end,” Yasuhiro told Makoto. “Our kids both have the same mother. Who needs to trust something like my instincts when I have my divinations at my disposal, ‘right? Usually I just make a mess of things if I go with what my head’s saying... It’s not worth the trouble.”

Makoto was about to object to such a way of thinking when he recalled how trusting the voice in his head had led to him revealing Kyouko’s lie. Perhaps things would have turned out differently if he had kept quiet.

He decided it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he could restart that trial and change the outcome. They weren’t in a video game.

“Hey, do either of you want a donut?” asked Aoi, jogging Makoto’s son on her knee. She held the box out toward them.

Yasuhiro took one.

His domino fell.

And when Monobear told them to smile for the camera, Makoto let his fall too.

***

"But, being alive means moving forward, 'right? Even if it's painful... Even if it's scary... it means moving forward, 'right...? I still want to live! I want to open the next door! There has to be something new waiting out there! So... I want to leave this place! I don't care about my divinations anymore! I decided to trust my instincts!"

"'Real strength only reveals itself when one is faced with great turmoil! Therefore, I shall always tread a thorny path!' She'd say something like that, wouldn't she? I think she'd definitely say something like that. So... I... Yeah. I decided!"

"It's not like I even care what happens! I simply choose what sounds most fun! Actually, I know I don't look the type, but I've always hated school! No, no. I actually do look the type! Ah, but I'll only do it if Byakuya-sama tags along!"

"It has never been my intention to fall into despair. But don't get the wrong idea. It's not about what's going to happen to you. I am merely keeping my word. I did promise to kill the mastermind, didn't I? Furthermore, the Togami family is not destroyed. I am still here. I can rebuild it with my own hands, and make it reach new heights!"

Makoto stopped dreaming soon after.

***

In the control room, Junko raised her glass in a toast to despair.

 


End file.
